


In Good Hands

by MissCrazyWriter321



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Awkward Ducks Flirting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Whump, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 14:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21056237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/pseuds/MissCrazyWriter321
Summary: Sometimes, even Malcolm Bright can ask for help.





	In Good Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Whumptober 2019 prompt "Shaking Hands." I just had to write something for these sweethearts!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ideas.

He doesn’t mean to scare her. Honest.

But everything hurts, and he can hardly focus enough energy to reach the safety of the morgue. He stumbles through the door, and she gasps.

Then her gaze settles on him, and he half expects her to pass out.

“You’re hurt!” Her eyes are wide.

“Yeah, I noticed.” He winces. He doesn’t mean to snap, not at her. Never at her. There are far too few people in this world who are good and kind and pure, and she deserves nothing but warmth in return. Softening his tone, he adds, “I need your help, Edrisa.”

She shakes her head, even as she moves to his side to steady him. “You need a hospital. You need-” A particularly harsh ache shoots through him, and she tracks his flinch. “Pain medicine.”

Instinctive panic coils around his chest at the words, but he shakes his head. She won’t do that to him. She won’t.

“I need stitches.” He drops into a rickety plastic chair, every joint singing in relief at the loss of pressure. “You do them all the time.”

There should, perhaps, be a fiercer word than horror to describe her expression, but he cannot think of it. “On dead people! They do not feel pain. You, on the other hand-”

_Feel pain every second of every day._

He does not say it, but it’s a close thing.

“I’ll be fine,” he offers instead. “I give myself stitches all the time.” This does not precisely seem to reassure her, but he plows on, desperate to get through to her before he loses too much blood. “Just can’t right now because…” His gaze drops to his trembling fingers, and he sighs. “Edrisa, please.”

For a long second, he thinks she will argue. Then her expression hardens, into something ferociously determined, the kind of face you’d see on a noble hero in a storybook. “I’ll need to sterilize it. It won’t be fun.” Even as she speaks, she moves around the small space, gathering supplies.

“Course it’s fun,” he manages, just before another wave of pain hits. “Get to-see you.”

She falters, but does not stop her quest, finally landing in front of him with a tray full of supplies and a rag for him to bite down on.

For a moment, all he can see is his father-a trunk-a body- “No rag.”

It’s clear she wants to argue, but she does not push, just moves onto sterilization.

The next few minutes pass in a haze of pain, seasoned only with her soft, steady voice whispering reassurances by his ear. “It’s almost over,” she promises, as the needle pricks his skin. “We’re almost done.”

At long last, the pain fades, replaced by a dull ache that is almost as comfortable as his favorite shoes. “Thank you,” he breathes, only just remembering his manners.

Her eyes are watering. Odd. He’s the one in pain, after all. “If you won’t go to the hospital,” she warns, voice thin, “you need to be more careful. I can’t-” She swallows. “I can’t do this all the time.”

Taking care of himself has never been high on his priority list, but if it will keep her from crying… “I will.”

She exhales, a ghost of a smile flickering across her face. “Good.”

Before he can talk himself out of it, he presses a kiss to her cheek. And oh, the look she gives him, halfway between flustered and charmed, is a ray of sunshine over the dark, cracked places inside him.

If he stays any longer, he might do something truly stupid, so he leaves her alone in the cold little room.

Her smile follows him for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!


End file.
